Take Me to the Place We Can Start Happy Ever After
by Vita Fidens
Summary: Sequel to "I Can See the Light, but the Darkness is Calling." After a shocking revelation of the depths of Dean Ambrose's depravity, how will Liz Moore respond? What will the consequences be for both of them?
1. Chapter 1

He spat out a tooth and grinned up at me. "Finally coming around, Lizzy?"

I slammed his head into the concrete again. "You sick son of a bitch," I growled. "You crazy motherfucker." I slammed his head repeatedly into the floor, until I suddenly found myself on my back, Dean on top of me.

"Ten minutes ago I was your hero," he said conversationally, hovering over me with blood slowly dripping from his mouth down on to my chest. "What the fuck happened?"

"I talked to Sheamus, you piece of shit," I snarled, wrestling my hand free and punching him again. "He told me everything."

"Oh?" Dean asked, dodging my punch easily. "He told you that I gave him two Ambien to put in your drink so that he could bring you to _my_ room?"

"So _you_ could rape me?" I snapped, trying to struggle my hand free again.

He shook his head. "No, Elizabeth. So I could sleep next to you for a night without hearing your incessant bitching and your protests."

I kicked my feet at him angrily. "You're lying."

It was his turn to slam my head into the concrete. Stars immediately filled my field of vision, and I stopped struggling. "Use your fucking head, Elizabeth," he snapped. "Do you honestly think I'd let another man within ten feet of your bedroom? Much less hand him the opportunity to fuck you on a silver platter?" He tilted his head. "Does that really sound like me?"

I hated to admit it, but the words rang true in my battered head. There was no way Dean would have ever allowed Sheamus to sleep with me, much less have asked him to do it. After all…look what had happened after I'd slept with Wade.

"He took my money and he took you. He lied to me and said that you hadn't accepted his drink and you'd left. Then he hurt you. So I hurt him," he finished matter-of-factly, staring into my eyes. "Nobody is going to hurt you while I'm around, Lizzy. Nobody."

"What the hell is going on here?" Heyman's hysterical voice broke into our conversation. "Dean, get off of Liz!"

Ambrose slowly pulled his hands away from mine, waiting for another punch. I elected not to do it, although I _really_ wanted to. Heyman's presence had everything to do with that. Ambrose shakily climbed to his feet and offered me his hand to help me up, which I ignored.

The back of his head was bleeding. 'Good,' I thought viciously.

"I can't have this," Paul said, shaking his head. "I can't have you two fighting like wild animals every time I turn around. You're both suspended for a month. Get your shit and go home. _Stay away from each other_. If I hear anything about how you two are in contact, you're both fired. Is that clear, children?"

I nodded, wincing at the sharp pain in the back of my head. Paul glanced back and forth between us before sighing heavily.

"Trainer's room, both of you. Then get your shit and go home."


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry for what happened to you, Liz," Ambrose said from behind the curtain. Our respective doctors had stepped out for a few minutes – more than likely to look at the x-rays of my hand and Ambrose's collarbone, which is where my initial strike had hit.

I didn't respond. He sighed.

"I know it's my fault, all right? I know it was stupid. But it should show you just how desperately I want you. Can we please stop this madness now? Please?"

I closed my eyes, feeling the waves of anger wash over me. "Leave me alone, Ambrose," I finally muttered in response. "You heard Paul. I want to keep my job."

I watched his shadow punch the steel beam that held the curtain separating our sections of the room as he let out an agonized, frustrated groan.

"Ow," he muttered angrily, going back to sit on his cot, his shadow hand flexing.

We waited in silence a few more minutes. There was a gentle knock on the wall by my side, and Wade Barrett's head poked into the curtain.

He managed a strained smile. "Hey there, slugger."

"Hey," I replied, attempting a smile for him. I didn't quite get there.

"How's the other guy look?" He asked, surveying me with a critical eye.

"A bit worse," I admitted. This was the first thing that made me smile today.

He chuckled. "That's my girl."

"She's not _your_ anything," Ambrose muttered angrily.

Wade shook his head and rolled his eyes before stepping forward and lightly touching my face. "I'm glad you're all right."

"Thanks. Me too." I paused. "You heard I've been given a months' 'vacation,' right?"

He nodded. "I did hear that. Are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah. Of course," I lied, as if this job hadn't become my entire existence. "The toughest part will be knowing what to do with myself," I added, which was the truth.

"I can come see you when we have a bit of off time, if you'd like. We can finally have that dinner that seems to keep getting cancelled." He shot a look towards Ambrose's section of the room, the expression on his face more than a little terrifying.

I debated for a few moments – I didn't want to give Ambrose more fuel for his demented fire. But that well of anger was still boiling away in me, and that ultimately guided my decision.

"I'd really like that."

He grinned and stepped forward to give me a quick kiss. I closed my eyes and let myself forget about the man next to us for a minute. His lips against mine stilled my weary head and calmed the rage inside of me, even if for just a few seconds.

I kept my eyes closed as he pulled away, and felt his lips press briefly against my forehead. "Have a safe trip home," he murmured into my ear.

I opened my eyes, smiling as I saw his stormy gray ones staring back into mine. I nodded. "I will. Stay safe on the road," I added, wanting so badly to simply say 'Stay safe until you come home to me,' but I thought it might be a bit heavy-handed.

He smiled and squeezed my hand before he turned and left.

I couldn't help myself – a small sigh slid out of my lips, and that seemed to be enough for Ambrose.

He stood up and quickly made his way out of the room. I heard the doctors trying to stop him, but he insisted that he was fine and he was leaving, results be damned – he felt all right and he was going home.

I lay back on the cot and tried to enjoy the peace and quiet after he left.


	3. Chapter 3

My suspension didn't last a month after all.

I only had four days to drive myself insane with boredom before I got a phone call from an unfamiliar number with a familiar area code – Manhattan.

I usually tried not to answer numbers that didn't come up from my extensive phone book, but the boredom had absolutely gotten to me and having something to do for a few seconds – even explain that it was a wrong number – seemed preferable to staring at my ceiling.

"Hello?" I answered, trying to sound pleasant and sane – a high bar to set after being without human contact for a day and a half now.

"Liz? It's David Crowley, from 787 Studios."

As if I wouldn't have recognized that voice anywhere. Just hearing him say my name made me want to go and offer myself up as a concubine.

"Hi David, how are you?"

"I'm doing well, thanks. Do you have a few minutes?"

'All the time in the world,' I thought bitterly. "Absolutely. What can I do for you?"

"We're in a bit of a jam on the new WWE game, creatively speaking. I called and spoke with Paul today, and he mentioned that you were probably available to answer some questions for us. I understand you're in Stamford for the next month?"

"I am, and I would be more than happy to answer questions for you."

"That is great, thank you so much!" He sounded genuinely happy about that, and I found myself smiling as a result. "Rick and I were thinking that it might be best for you to just come down to the studio so you can see what we have so far and offer us a few suggestions on where we can go from here."

I blinked in surprise. Video game studio? Input on the new WWE game? Yes, please.

"That sounds fantastic," I replied truthfully, feeling joy bubble up in my chest and my lips spread into an even bigger smile. "When would you like me to be there?"

"Monday? Say around 10?"

"That works for me."

"Excellent." He paused. "It'll be great to see you again, Liz. I'm very much looking forward to it."

"Likewise," I replied without thinking too much about it.

David gave me the address and we chatted a bit about mundane things before we said our goodbyes and hung up.

I started to text Seth – mainly to brag up getting to go into 787's studios – but was interrupted by a phone call from Paul.

"Hello?" I answered, a bit more cautiously.

"Liz, how are you?"

"I'm fine, yourself?"

"Good. Listen, David Crowley from 787 called today –"

"I actually just got off the phone with him," I interrupted, not wanting to make Paul explain the whole thing.

"Oh. He works fast. So obviously I'm lifting your suspension, but I want you to stay in Stamford and help these guys get the game right. It's just as important for us as it is for them."

"No problem. Happy to do it." I paused. "Will I be staying in Stamford permanently?"

"I doubt it."

I'd never been more relieved to hear those words in my life. I let out a breath that I didn't realize I'd been holding.

"I talked with Dean," he continued. "I doubt that he told me everything, but he told me a great deal. You should have come to me, Liz."

I felt my shoulders shrink uncomfortably. "I know," I replied tiredly.

"That's neither here nor there. The important thing is that I know now, and that after I spoke to him at length Dean seems to realize that his actions were completely unacceptable. No small feat, might I add." He paused. "Liz, I honestly think he actually feels bad. He told me that he was going to leave you alone."

"No offense, Paul – but I'll believe it when it happens," I said dryly.

"That's understandable. But, Liz, I will give you this piece of advice – don't go asking for trouble."

I could feel my brow furrow as I attempted to process his words. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "Far be it from me to get involved in the personal lives of my employees, but Wade Barrett? Dean was positively murderous. The guy's agreed to leave you alone. Don't rub it in his face by dating one of his co-workers, all right? If you want a boyfriend, fine. If you want a girlfriend, fine. Just make sure it's someone Dean won't see you with regularly. Let's not tempt fate here."

I could feel my heart sink a little bit, but I could hear the wisdom in Paul's words. "You're right," I admitted. "I'll break things off with Wade. Thanks, Paul."

But I didn't mean it. Not one bit.


	4. Chapter 4

I called Wade that night, after much debate.

I finally decided that doing it now, and doing it quickly, was going to be the best way to handle it.

He sounded so happy when he picked up the phone. I found a lump forming in my throat, and I simply hurt from what I was going to have to do.

We idly chatted for a few minutes – I told him about my new project and how excited I was to get out of the house, he regaled me with funny stories from the road – before I finally worked up the courage to do what I needed to do.

"Listen," I said quietly, "I've been doing a lot of thinking."

"Sounds dangerous," he said, the tone of his voice changing immediately.

"I like you. I like you a whole hell of a lot. And I just can't put you in any kind of situation where Dean might hurt you."

He sighed. "I was wondering when this would become an issue," he admitted. "Will my protest of 'I can take care of my bloody self' change anything?"

I shook my head before realizing that he couldn't see me. "No, Wade. I know you can. But Ambrose is a special kind of crazy, especially when it comes to me. I don't want to tempt fate and throw it in his face that I'm dating one of his co-workers. I don't know how he'll react, and that terrifies me more than anything."

Paul Heyman's words were coming out of my mouth. I never thought I'd see the day.

He was quiet for a few minutes, and I found myself clenching the sheets on my bed tightly in my free fist. The silence was agonizing.

"I know that you're right, and I can understand what you're trying to do – you're trying to protect me. But, Liz, I simply don't care. I don't care about Dean Ambrose and what he might or might not do. It's an unknown; an intangible possible future. In the meantime, I'm right here in front of you, sweetheart."

It was the absolute wrong thing to say, but he had no way of knowing that. Sweetheart. How I'd grown to loathe that word.

"I just can't right now," I explained once I'd gotten my bearings. "Not with someone so close to everything. I need a fresh start and a clean slate."

He laughed, but there was no joy in the sound. "Someone who's not a complicated man with muscles as big as your head," he said flatly. I closed my eyes, feeling tears fill them. Why did he have to be so perfect? It only made this infinitely more difficult.

"I won't lie; I'm disappointed. But I do understand. You went through a trauma that I'll probably never be able to fully grasp, and even I can see that you still need some time to work through it. If that means you need to be alone, or if you need to explore the dating world outside of the WWE…then by all means, go and work everything out. Go and be happy."

I shook my head, more at myself than at him. "Thank you," I said with the most sincerity I'd ever said any words in my life. "I wish this had happened at a different time in my life."

"Everything happens for a reason, Liz. Even this. If it's right, we'll find a way when it's the right time."


	5. Chapter 5

I threw myself into my new task with complete reckless abandonment.

It was easy to do because it was the combination of two things I absolutely loved – and because it was helping me to forget about the past year of my life, which was something that I sorely needed to do.

We made painstaking progress on the game, but we did make progress. Rick was a complete perfectionist, and it slowed us down a bit – but it meant that we wouldn't have to go back and fix things later. I elected to just work how he wanted to work, happy to be out of the house and doing something worthwhile…something that didn't directly involve Dean Ambrose for a change.

It became apparent after a short while that David was around a lot more often than Rick cared for, and that this wasn't their norm. After several short, irritated comments from Rick I figured out that _I_ was the reason David was hanging around.

Oh good. Just what I needed.

I made sure that my visits became more and more brief as the weeks wore on, and I tried to keep things strictly to the business at hand.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit that it was difficult. David was, quite simply, a nice guy. He was courteous and polite, and he wasn't bad to look at either. If things in my life hadn't been so complicated, I probably would have been flattered.

No matter how calm things seemed on the surface of my life, I knew that there were big, terrifying things slithering in the depths. I still wasn't ready to deal with them yet; truthfully, I didn't know where to even begin dealing with them. I had a very real fear that these monsters would follow me throughout the rest of my days, and I couldn't drag someone – especially someone as nice as David – into my mess.

Finally, the time came for me to part ways with the guys at 787. Paul had called and reminded me that my month was over, and that he needed me back on the road.

I was a little sad to be leaving, but at the same time I was ready. The past year had made me restless and unable to sit still for terribly long.

Even faced with the prospect of returning to my complicated jumble of terrifying situations – Dean, Wade, Sheamus, the whole fucking locker room at this point, really – I was excited. The WWE, for all of the terror it had wrought on me, had become my second home. I couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Of course, all of these sweet, pleasant thoughts went out the window when I was reminded of the very things I had hated about being on the road within an hour of walking into the arena on my first night back.

I'd been running around the place like a madwoman searching for a photocopier, of all things. The one in the office nearest to us had suddenly quit, and I'd received vague directions from a janitor that apparently I hadn't followed well enough.

I was lost in a section of the building that had more in common with a crypt than a state-of-the-art entertainment facility.

I heard footsteps around the corner and, relieved, turned with a question of how the hell to get out of here on my lips.

The words died immediately while I took in the scene – a messy blonde-haired man leaning against the brick wall, shirt up and pants down around his knees while a curvy brunette knelt in front of him. My mouth remained open when I realized that standing in front of me, back against the wall, was Dean Ambrose.

He glanced up, a look of pure fury on his face that melted away when he saw me.

He smiled, although it looked more like a sneer.

I was frozen. I knew that I should turn around and walk away, leaving the two of them to do their business – but I just couldn't move. The shock of seeing him so suddenly and so unexpectedly had brought all manner of emotions bubbling up to the surface, and it stopped me dead in my tracks.

Even as I watched, he grabbed the woman – I realized then that it must have been Becky – by winding both of his hands into her hair and began thrusting deeply into her mouth, staring at me unabashedly while small moans of pleasure escaped his lips.

I shook myself out of it and finally got the hell out of there.


	6. Chapter 6

The rest of the night was, blessedly, uneventful. Ambrose avoided me, and I avoided him. Wade was cordial. Sheamus wouldn't even look in my direction. I was pleased on all counts.

Paul gave me a few last-minute notices before he left for the evening. "By the way," he added, "great work with the 787 project."

"Thanks. It was a blast."

"You made quite an impression. David wants to bring Rick to watch another show when we get back to the East Coast."

"That's great," I said, smiling. "I doubt Rick will enjoy it, but hopefully we've made a fan out of David."

"I think he's a fan, all right," Paul said, staring at me intently. I raised an eyebrow, shaking my head to indicate that I had no idea what he was talking about. He laughed. "He's a fan of _you_, Liz. He wouldn't stop singing your praises."

"Oh," I said, blushing. Part of me had hoped that what I'd picked up on in the studio was Rick being Rick. "He's a nice guy," I said noncommittally.

"He's a nice, stable, corporate lawyer who happens to live very close to where you do and fawns all over your every move but hasn't creeped you out yet. Are you catching my drift?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Barking up the wrong tree, Paul," I said, trying to keep my tone light.

He raised his hands, a small smile on his face. "Just saying, Liz – you could do a lot worse."

"Good night, Paul," I said pointedly, although I couldn't help but smile. It was kind of nice to have him looking out for me instead of conspiring against me. For that alone, I'd made the right decision in joining his team.

He left, and I dove into the pile of paperwork in front of me.

I was quietly singing to myself, which explained how I didn't know that Ambrose was approaching me from behind until his hand clapped on my shoulder.

I almost screamed out of sheer shock, but his other hand clapped over my mouth. "You're fine," he said. "It's just me."

My mouth closed and he removed his hand. "I don't know that the fact that you're sneaking up on me means I'm fine," I snapped. "What do you want?"

He came around to the other side of the table I was working at and pulled up a chair, resting his legs on top of the table and lacing his fingers on his stomach.

"Enjoy watching earlier?" He asked, a small smile on his lips.

I sighed. "I'm sorry about that. I was just…surprised to see you guys."

"And maybe a little excited?" I glared at him. "Just a little bit?"

"No, Dean," I said clearly, returning to the paperwork in front of me.

He sat up straight and leaned across the table, his hand very lightly brushing a lock of hair out of my face. "Did you wish – for just a minute – that it was you there with me? Or maybe did you wish that you were the one leaning against the wall while I knelt down and worshiped you with my tongue? Because you know that's what it feels like when I do it, Lizzy."

I felt a not-unsubstantial jolt of lust run through me, remembering just how good he was at that particular act. "No, Dean," I repeated. "I didn't think at all about you and I in those positions." 'Not until now, anyway,' I thought. 'Thanks for that.'

He leaned back, sighing. "Well that's disappointing." He fell silent for a few minutes, just watching me do paperwork.

"Were you thinking about someone else?" He asked idly. "A corporate lawyer for a video game company, maybe?"

My head shot up. He tried to appear disinterested and failed miserably.

"Leave him alone, Dean," I growled. "There is nothing going on there."

"I wouldn't touch him even if there was, sweetheart. Paul likes him. You heard him earlier; he thinks you two would be a good fit. Do you think that way, too?"

I wasn't going to dignify this with a response. He sighed heavily after a few minutes. "Lizzy, Lizzy, Lizzy. I can appreciate the position I've put you in. I can understand your hesitance. But I think you should go for it."

"What?" I asked, furrowing my brow. "Why? So you can hurt two of us instead of just me?"

He shook his head. "No. It's only fair. I have Becky to take care of me. You should have someone to take care of you. And since you won't let that be me – you still won't right?" I shook my head quickly to confirm that notion, "I think that this gentleman sounds like a nice choice for you."

I stared at him for a few minutes, wondering what exactly he was playing at. "Thanks?"

He nodded. "You're welcome. He's a nice…boring…_adult_ choice for you. I'm sure you'll have all manner of lovely conversations where you talk often but don't say anything. In a few years, maybe you'll start debating the merits of having two bathrooms in your house instead of just one. And I'm just positive that you'll have dull, lifeless dinner parties with your dull, lifeless friends that he'll call a raging success. And all the while, Lizzy, all the while – you'll be wishing for something _more_."

He bent forward and covered my hand with his. "You go have your boring, typical adult relationship, baby. I'll be right here waiting when you realize that you just can't handle that sort of connection now that you've been with me."

With that, he stood up and walked away.


	7. Chapter 7

I could feel Dean watching me over the next few weeks, but he didn't approach me again.

I threw myself into being back on the road and spent a lot of my downtime with Seth and Ro. Seth's girlfriend, Leigh, had taken to joining us for some of the trips as well and I found that she and I got along really well.

It was kind of nice to have another lady around. We weren't really all that similar – she was pretty girly, a cosmetologist by trade, and I…just wasn't – but it seemed to work out all right. We gossiped more than we probably should have, and I wasn't terribly surprised to learn that Seth was…ahem…athletic outside of the ring as well as inside of it. I shouldn't have found that out about one of my best friends, but I will admit that there'd been a certain curiosity.

Especially lately. It seemed that seeing Ambrose with Becky and hearing him remind me of the ways that he was talented had reawakened a lot of latent desires for me. I'd never, ever give him any hint of that, though.

We finally made our way back to the East Coast, and Paul pulled me aside the night we made it back to Hartford. "Dave and Rick are coming by tonight," he told me, eyeing me critically. "Do you think maybe you should go change?"

I glanced down at my jeans – admittedly a bit ratty – and the t-shirt I was wearing, which had absolutely seen better days. "Nope," I replied after my quick assessment. "They've both seen me like this before. It won't shock them."

Paul sighed and began rubbing his head as if he was trying to massage away a headache. "Liz," he tried to say gently, "I really think that maybe you might want to look a bit nicer. Maybe David will invite you out for a drink…?"

Leigh had been watching this exchange with interest and came to his rescue. "Come on, Lizzy," she said cheerfully. "I have a few things you can borrow. Oh! And I can finally do your makeup!" She said with a big grin. Leigh was lucky that her smile and enthusiasm were infectious, otherwise I might have wanted to kill her.

In twenty minutes, I looked like a different person. "They're not going to recognize me," I grumbled.

"That's a good thing," Seth piped up from his perch in the corner, where he'd been watching the process with interest. "Maybe he'll think that you're the hotter twin of that clueless girl who thought he was just interested in video games."

I stuck my tongue out at him, and Leigh scolded me for wrecking my lipstick. I kept still while she reapplied and told me, in no uncertain terms, to keep my tongue in my mouth for the rest of the night. I had to snort back laughter.

"I'm getting the impression that nobody else wants that to happen," I teased, "the way you're all throwing me at David."

"We're only throwing you because we know he wants to catch you," Leigh replied sweetly.

"And because if he doesn't, it'll be fun to see the makeup print your face leaves behind on the floor," Seth added helpfully.

Leigh turned and threw a makeup brush at him. "NOT HELPING."

"Not trying to," he said with a laugh. Then he turned to look at me, still smiling. "You look great, Liz," he said sincerely. "This guy was nuts over you before; he's going to be drooling tonight. Do yourself a favor and go out there and get him. Even if it's only for the night."


	8. Chapter 8

I found myself surprised when the night went exceedingly well.

I was oddly nervous about the whole thing. It felt foreign to me to actually like someone in a romantic way and know that I had a very real chance of ending up in a relationship with that person. An uncomplicated relationship, even – well, as far as relationships could be uncomplicated.

Part of me truly expected Dean to rescind his words and come after me, David, or both of us – but he didn't. He was polite. He was cordial. He seemed normal when interacting with David, to the point where David had no idea why I was uptight around Dean.

I didn't explain. Not on the first night.

David had returned me safely to my hotel after an evening out and insisted on walking me up to my room. I felt a thrill in my stomach and immediately felt sick – my scars hadn't been an issue before now; at least not one I'd had to explain to anyone. I wasn't sure how to handle it.

It turned out that I didn't need to. In a change of pace from the past year, David didn't want to come in to my room with me. He simply gave me a very sweet goodnight kiss and left.

I realized then that this was the different kind of man that maybe I needed.

Things progressed very slowly, mainly because I was away so often. After about three months of nightly phone calls and incessant text messaging, David began to surprise me by trying to fly to wherever we happened to be when he had the time to spare, even if it was only a night.

I finally told him about my time with Dean and my scars on one of these nights. I gave him the official version of events and the actual version as well, and he seemed appalled. He asked to see them, and I complied with my heart in my throat.

His fingers lightly traced over my skin, an unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he bent and very gently pressed his lips directly in the middle of the whole mess.

"You're still beautiful, Liz," he murmured. "In fact, you're even more beautiful…look at what you've overcome."

I was shocked to hear him say that, and that immediately turned into gratitude flooding through my entire body. I didn't repulse him. Even after all that I'd been through, all that I'd done, this beautiful, _normal_ man wanted to be with me.

I leapt on him without any shame, and he seemed pleased by that particular sequence of events.

Things between us began to get more serious after that. I had settled into the idea of having a normal life, and having a normal relationship. All of the other men that had been in my life faded into the background, especially Dean. I hardly saw him at all.

I would only have a year of this blissfully peaceful existence.


	9. Sequel

Thanks so much, everyone, for sticking with me through these transitional bits! The next part is up and is entitled "I'm Facing What You Won't Tonight." I hope you enjoy.


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